


The Druidic Cleansing

by Embrathiel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 08:49:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embrathiel/pseuds/Embrathiel
Summary: The Druids send an ambassador to rescue Harry from a graveyard fight which is far more dangerous than in cannon. The Wizarding world must learn to cope with traditions from half a millennia ago, a Dark Lord who's soul anchors are the last things they wish to destroy, and a savior who discovers her true identity along the way, bringing about a revolution in both worlds.





	1. Prologue: Birth of Anonymity

The Druidic Cleansing

Disclaimer: If I owned it I wouldn't still be busting my butt for $14 per hour. Drat.

Prologue: Birth of Anonymity

**

Tuesday, June 11, 1577 A.D.

Breudd, High Priest of his people bowed his head to the setting sun, forcing down the bile that begged expulsion from within. This was when it would have to happen, now, today. If he failed to pull himself together, the Spire might not still be standing for the next summer solstice. It was now, or a frightening future for his beloved people.

With effort, Breudd forced his eyes ahead to look upon the glorious tower for the last time. About him glowed a circle of runes enscribed within the hilltop beside the Black Lake; they were ready and charged, requiring only his direction. He hated them, or at least, as much as he could hate a group of inanimate runes which would ultimately protect the Druids and the powers they held from the general populace of the magical world.

High up on its hills gleamed the true center of the esoteric, the glory that was the Hogwarts Castle. He tried not to look at it as he raised his right hand to point at the Spire. He spoke one word, he directed the energy.

Borne on the fire of the longest day of the year, borne on his hope and love for the people he protected, borne on the wings of magic, the power and energy rushed through his body, up to his chest and out through his outstretched hand. Across the watery expanse that energy flew, smashing in to the Spire, enveloping it, and removing it from memory. With an immense report, the bridge connecting the tower to the main castle was wrent asunder, crumbling to dust in an instant, and that dust morphing in to droplets of water that rained down to the surface of the lake, and vanished. Water frothed and swirled about the base of the Spire as it sank lower and lower, ultimately beneath the deepest portion of the lake, and then even deeper, until nothing remained of it above the lake bed.

Sitting quietly amidst its own runes, the ancient hat flickered with the last motes of energy before with a terrible jolt, Breudd found himself gazing upon the lake, calm and peaceful in the absence of the sun.

**

What kept him from falling over in exhaustion? Well, he wasn’t sure, but it likely had to do with the fact that he had no idea what had just happened.

“What in the name of the stars?” He more said it to the hat than to himself but hadn’t expected it to answer, the old thing had only seen fit to speak to him on two very specific occasions before.

“Suffice to say High Druid, that you have succeeded. Your people will be safe now. If you feel you crave more knowledge, I am to tell you that you have it written in your satchel, and that you are to burn the parchment after reading it. If you are satisfied, then I shall return to my shelf lest anyone becomes suspicious.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you honoured relic, what ever we have wrought, I am sure I am glad for your assistance.”

Barely a brush of air later, the hat was gone. Breudd shook his head and dug through the satchel at his waist and withdrew the only item within, then read the words he must have written, blotted here and there with tears.

“Our sacred ground whereupon we trained our young in the pure expression of magic, has to be hidden. I will no longer remember, and that is for the best, for I have hidden it myself. Hiding such a monument to the power we weild is the only way to prevent the others from seeking us out. After labeling natural, wandless magic as dark, we had no choice but to leave the larger world behind. One day I hope the place that is now hidden shall return in glory to the minds of us all, and so I am content in what I must do. For what greater cause could there be than to protect our young, our future, our peace? Blessed be.”

New tears were mixing with the old upon the letter and Breudd felt a wave of bile attempting to practice its own methods of propultion out of his face. He gulped down the pain and ignited a spark upon the small sheet, watching it burn away to ash in the breeze. It was disgusting and beautiful, painful and healing. He had sacrificed a portion of their culture to save it in the future. He dearly hoped it would be worth the cost. A cost that while have not included a single life, would with any luck and the blessings of the moon and sun, prevent the loss of innocents. A cost of history, of sacred ground, of learning and free expression. The cost of a home.

The wind gusted across the hilltop casting away the lingering ash and dust, and the footprints of the Druid who had vanished as if never there.


	2. Chapter 1: Cornerstone of the Future

Disclaimer: Why isn’t it mine? Probably because I’m not J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 1: Cornerstone of the Future

**TDC**

Saturday, June 24, 1995

She could not return home, not, at least, until her mission was complete. The fear was delicious in its potency and the sixteen year old Druid allowed herself to savor the unnecessary emotion before blotting it out with her more urgent needs.

Daela strode between the silent tombstones, letting their whispered sorrows pass over her mind and away. Steady moonlight shone down in watchful audience upon the graveyard, Daela’s white garb seeming to shimmer as would a specter of the past. The peace which Daela felt beneath the moon’s glory was soon to be ripped away, and yet she could not help but revel in its short-lived gentility.

Her mother’s tears, her mother’s anger at the fools who had caused her to have to send forth her only daughter.

Before her, a ring of black-garbed figures faced inward as the shadow of the world ranted and raved over his victory. She could no longer sense insanity from him but apparently the desire to gloat in manic monologues was an inherent part of his persona. Beneath her tall boots the timid grass bent, blessing her passage with the hope of her banishing the shadow. None of them would notice her, not yet anyway.

The greater magical world as a whole was not prepared for the firestorm they had unleashed upon themselves; and it was her duty to make them burn even more so that they could rise greater than before from the ashes. That was, at least, what Vretha, her mother’s phoenix had said, so she presumed it must be accurate.

As she watched, Tom Riddle’s new body extended an arm to the sky and fire bloomed about him. The yew wand rested limply in an unraised hand, proving to all about him what the Druids had known to be true from the start. The self-proclaimed dark lord cackled with glee and brought his arm down to point at the lone grave marker within their circle. Two thin strings of fire leapt forth and seared through the ropes binding Harry Potter to the stone before puffing in to smoke. The boy collapsed to his knees before shakily pushing himself back up. Daela could feel his terror, his uncertainty. Was he ready for this? Perhaps in courage, but not in skill.

“Kneel before me Potter! For I am greater than any has imagined me to be.” Tom’s words seemed to physically strike Harry, the boy twitching in response. He stood tall and defiant however, proving to be stubborn if not strongly averse to letting fear control him.

“No.” Harry’s voice shook but was just loud enough for Daela to hear.

“You defy me boy? I have powers you have never heard of. I must thank you for part of it however as it is of course your doing. Ignorance breeds glory for those who overpower the fools child. In this game you have lost. Now kneel before me before I make you.”

Harry did not move. Tom sneered and flicked his wand sending its brother through the air in to Harry’s hand.

“Then you shall die like the fools who spawned you.”

And this was her duty, her time, her fate.

Tom cast forth a stream of fire toward Harry who would have no idea how to counter it. Daela extended her hand and invoked the powers of earth and water, causing an earthen barrier to rise up between the two. Had it been purely soil, the fire would have melted it; but with water imbued within, Voldemort’s assault faltered. The fire struck her barrier and sizzled, steam rising, but the wall held. Surprise appeared on Tom’s face and when the barrier still remained after several seconds, he cut off the stream. His wand began working through the air and tombstones were transfigured in to snarling wolves. Their bodies lit with hellish fire, they began to circle Harry.

The Death Eaters spread out, answering an unspoken command from their master as he wove magic about himself. Harry was still looking about him, as if expecting to see his savior, but it was not time for that yet. Daela had to admit as she watched Tom sending sparks of magic in to the space about him that he was no push over. The sparks he cast were a myriad of spells, pre-prepared and pre-cast. If he had his way, he would be able to send a hailstorm of curses at Harry simultaneously. Such a setup Daela had never seen, hardly even considered, and never bothered to attempt.

The young Potter cast bludgeoning hexes at the hounds to little effect so Daela called the moisture from the air and doused the creatures, forcing water in to Tom’s creations so they reformed in to mud and collapsed.

“Appear before me! Who dares interfere?” Tom bellowed.

 

Wind whipped through her long red hair and with all her strength, Daela yanked Harry and the body of the fallen teen towards her. Dust was thrown in to the air obscuring all but a few meters around her. Tom screamed and light bloomed high above. Ravens that trailed sparks swarmed outward in an expanding ring, casting their light about as they sought out the intruder. With a thud, the two boys rammed in to her body and just as a screaming raven dove at her, Daela extended a hand, forming a shimmering dome of emerald light about them. Her shield shuddered and a small tremor moved through the earth as the fiery bird collided with her barrier. Through the transparent dome and the dustcloud, she watched as the swarm of spells was unleashed upon them like dozens of angry hornets.

Daela’s world was reduced to explosions of light and twinges of pain as her shield was hammered by Tom’s power. Harry was pressed close to her side, his wand arm trembling as he looked on in awe. Only a few seconds in to the assault, he cried out and pointed as the robed and hooded figures stepped up to the edge of her dome, surrounding them completely. Directly before her, Tom’s pale face glowed green, hardly a worse visage than he already was.

“Your people have made a grave mistake in sending you here tonight child. I will destroy you, and then I shall rip their secrets from your mind and ravage their home.” With that, Tom raised his hands, one filled with fire, the other holding his glowing wand. At his signal, a circle of wands were raised, a myriad of spells preparing to bombard her. Now it was time to go. She could not have fought them off much longer anyway.

With a hand on Harry’s arm and the other holding the fallen boy’s wrist, Daela sent her magic throughout them and pulled. There was no crack, no squeeze, no, anything really. One second she was staring in to gleaming red orbs and the next they were in an open space before the opening to the maze, surrounded by panicing people.

**TDC**

Hermione watched as the judges gathered around the entrance to the maze, gesturing wildly and casting all sorts of diagnostic spells. Something was clearly wrong but they had not made any announcements. The commentary had said that Harry and Cedric had touched the cup and vanished but nothing since. Obviously it was a portkey but wasn’t it supposed to bring them to the entrance? Or was this a second part of the challenge.

The crowd was restless and everyone was talking excitedly as if it wasn’t clear that something was wrong. She gave up on waiting and began making her way through the crowd. Hermione ignored the glances as she rushed down the stairs. They must think her some kind of arrogant child for thinking to engage the judges while they were working. Well maybe she was but Harry might be in trouble again.

It was as she reached the pitch that the wand waving halted, expressions of shock overriding the concern on the faces of the witches and wizards before her. A flare of light came from her left and the portkey deposited three people before the crowd. The witch was unknown to her, dressed all in white and standing tall even after the chaos of magical travel. She had a hand gripping Harry’s elbow, barely keeping him from falling over. The last was Cedric, but he wasn’t moving. He lay sprawled beside them, motionless. Was he injured? She barely heard the screams as she ran forward, noticing that Professor Dumbledore was doing so beside her. Before they could reach Harry though, the woman raised a hand. A wave of force pressed against her, slowing her to a stop. The headmaster likewise was forced to halt. What?

The stranger spoke, and her words filled the stadium. “I insist that no one panics. There is no immediate danger here. Please, let only those who need to be involved approach at this time.”

The pressure let up and Hermione pushed forward, keeping her wand at her side.

“I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of this school. Please explain what has happened while the healers take a look at my students.”

She shook her head. “That will not be necessary sir. The death curse struck down Mr. Digory and I can heal Mr. Potter myself.” She closed her eyes and a trickle of light coursed along her arm and entered Harry. Instantly he brightened and stood taller, looking more alert. His clothes were torn but he seemed otherwise whole.

Cedric dead? This was why the event was originally unwelcome. Students should not be dying, students should be safe. Who was this woman to heal Harry without a wand? In fact, none of the magic she had done seemed to require a wand. Could she really be that powerful? She looked to be a teenager still, so who was she?

“My name is Daela, Professor, and I was sent to rescue Harry from Tom Riddle who has reclaimed a body this night and called his followers to him. I would speak with you and the Minister as soon as possible. Harry should join us as well.” She said.

“You were sent? Could you be one of the…”

Daela lifted a hand to forestall the headmaster’s next words. “please, I shall tell you what I can, but not in a public setting.” Hermione saw Daela about to continue, then she closed her mouth, her eyes caught by something. Quicker than she would have thought possible, Daela sprang to the side and extended an arm. A focused beam of light leapt from her palm and Hermione whipped around. The light was focused on Professor Moody’s arm, and the man was screaming something aweful. Before their eyes and in a matter of seconds, the man’s body rippled and took the form of, someone else. What? The light was bright upon his left forearm, his sleeve burned away, revealing the Dark Mark, black against his flesh. Dumbledore’s wand began to move and the man before them was bound and fell to the ground unconscious.

“Apologies Headmaster, but I sensed him hiding his true form and the taint on his arm. Please forgive if I acted out of turn.”

“No, no, I,” Dumbledore seemed shocked, his eyes locked on the unconscious body. “Yes, we must speak. Please come with me, Harry you as well if you please.”

Hermione stopped listening. Everything was happening so quickly; Cedric dead, Voldemort returned, this new woman, Moody was an imposter. What what what!

She followed them, barely noticing as they collected the Minister, the unconscious man floating beside the headmaster, and as a crowd of people surrounded Cedric’s body. She wasn’t sure how so much could happen all at once but it was Harry’s life after all. As the Minister approached, so too did two dementors, bringing a chill and terror with them. They stopped when they got too close to Daela and when her eyes fell upon them they fled in to the skies. Cornelius Fudge, blustering out questions stumbled after them. Dumbledore suggested silence until they reached the castle and so it was. She wasn’t really supposed to have followed them, but Hermione couldn’t leave Harry in this state.

As she followed, she looked again at Daela. The young woman was tall and most certainly gorgeous with red hair that fell to her hips. Her garments were all white, from her knee-high boots to her tight trousers and elegant tunic. She couldn’t have been much older than Hermione, yet she walked with an grace and confidence, as if she possessed all the power in the world. Perhaps she did, if she could stop Dumbledore in his tracks.

Their small group passed through the deserted castle and made their way up to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He conjured chairs for everyone before lowering himself in to his cushioned armchair. With a flourish he proffered a bowl of yellow candies.

“May I offer anyone a lemon drop?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

No one accepted. With a smile the headmaster popped one in to his mouth before twining his fingers together on his desk. Only then did he seem to notice that Hermione was there.

“Ah, Ms. Granger. I presume you are here because of your friendship with Harry? Or was there something else you wished to discuss?”

“Yes Professor, that was all. I didn’t think to ask if I could join you.” She began.

“Yes, I should say so.” Hermione flinched as the Minister’s eyes fell on her. “If this is such an important matter Dumbledore, I should wonder why this girl is allowed to sit in on it. Why don’t you go back to your classmates.”

“I want her to stay.” Harry seemed to have come out of a daze himself and was sitting tall, his eyes on the Minister.

Dumbledore clapped his hands. “Ah, there we have it. You are most welcome to stay Ms. Granger. Now, Daela, you said your name was? Please tell us what you can of this evening.”

Daela crossed one knee over the other and rested her clasped hands upon them. “I should start a bit earlier than that if you will permit headmaster. My mother is the High Priestess of our people. You were about to ask earlier, yes, we are Druids.” Cornelius began to interrupt but she raised a hand. “We have remained in seclusion as the Wizarding world as a whole is not prepared to receive us and our magic. The only reason I was sent is that Tom Riddle poses a much greater threat than anyone realizes. So I am here to aid you, and ask for your assistance in the coming war. Also, your law enforcement official should be here for this as much will be shared that is relevant to her duties.”

**TDC**

Needless to say, Tom was furious. One moment he had been about to crush the little worms, and the next they were gone. Her damn shield had even been stubborn enough to remain until he’d fired a hex at it. This was not how things were supposed to happen. Her power was too great, and how in the hell had she bloody well not cowered when he glared at her? Regardless, he would have to find a way to vent his fury in a constructive manner. Before two years ago, he might have killed one of his followers for failing him, how silly. Now, now that he was mentally whole, he could focus himself properly.

With a dignified swirl of his new robes, the Dark Lord spun about and stalked back over to the cauldron. He would have to dispose of the potion in case his old headmaster got a hold of it. As he moved around a grave marker though, he spotted a glimmer out of the corner of his eye, and turned. There, about 10 meters away, sat the enchanted cup, forgotten by the folloish upstart. The cup that had taken the boy to him.

The cup that was a portkey.

A portkey back to Hogwarts.

Had any of his followers been unlucky enough to be in front of him at that moment, they would have seen his red eyes begin to glow as the manic visage of their lord returned to the pale face of Tom Riddle’s new body. Even so, a deep shiver ran through the lot of them as they watched him cackling madly while pointing at a silver cup.  
Please review and thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 2: Close-Minded Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daela, Harry, and Hermione meet with the powers that be and Fudge refuses to believe the truth.

Chapter 2: Close-Minded Powers

**TDC**

Saturday, June 24, 1995

“Absolutely absurd!” Daela groaned inwardly at the Minister’s outburst. “I don’t know where you came from girl, but you do not simply waltz in here and make up stories to feed to us. I need hardly address just how foolish it would be to believe you. The Dark Lord returned? Dumbledore, you can’t take this, this, child seriously.”

“It seems Cornelius, that Ms…” Albus held out a hand in her direction.

“Ermain. Daela Ermain.” She supplied.

“Thank you. It seems that Ms. Ermain would hardly generate a story placing her as a member of the Druids. I have not heard of anyone foolish enough to do so without backing up their claim. Before we address Tom’s return, would there be anything you could do to provide evidence of your claim Ms. Ermain?”

Daela was intreagued by the headmaster’s clearly false claim disguised with just enough ambiguity, but felt it was better to let it be. She gestured lightly as her left hand tapped her booted knee. “I must admit Professor, that I have no interest in attempting to convince someone of my heritage who has already determined that they have no need to display even a modicum of respect towards someone under the age of seventeen. It just so happens that I can very easily make clear my claim, and will do so at a later date during a separate conversation. For now, it would be prudent to discuss the more important matter of Tom Riddle’s reincarnation. May I display the events within the graveyard?”

“You see! She disrespects even me…” spittle flew from Cornelius’s lips but Albus cut him off.

“I well agree that we are all interested in the lineage of the Druids Cornelius, but Ms. Ermain is correct. We must determine what to do about these most recent occurrences. If you would my dear. I can provide a Pensieve. But ah, I nearly forgot.” Albus stood and moved over to the fireplace. With a pinch of powder he sent the flames to a dazzling green and called, “Office of Amelia Bones.”

A brief pause, then, “Yes Albus?”

“Ah good evening Amelia. I have our Minister as well as some persons of interest here and we were hoping you might come and meet with us about the events this evening.”

“I’ll be through in a moment.” Then mumbled as if unintended for their ears, “Bloody sporting events. Something always happens.”

Daela saw Harry stifle a smirk at her comment as the formidable woman stepped through the emerald flames. She, unlike the twitching Minister, presented an image well deserving of her office. The stony look upon her face was softened by eyes that softened slightly upon seeing teens present. Her robes were emaculate and straight, yet of a quality that had they been mussed, it would not have dampened their elegance. Her office had seemingly aged her as a magical individual of her age should not appear so old.

After taking in the room with a swift glance, Amelia turned to the headmaster. “What can I help with Albus?”

“Ah, it seems we have a Death Eater in our midst who has likely been impersonating out chipper Professor Moody for the duration of the school year. As much as I would happily manage this at the start, I feel that as you are here, perhaps we could send him back to your office for interrogation while we deal with more important matters here?”

As he said this, Albus flicked his wand, causing the unconscious man to float over to Amelia’s side. Upon seeing him, she blanched.

“Albus, he’s he’s supposed to be dead. What in Merlin’s name has been happening here?”

“I will gladly share with you, but I feel that young Barty should be transported to the Ministry so he is safely locked away and under interrogation as quickly as possible. I can not of course, command you, but I highly suggest it as what we have to discuss here will go nicely along with what Barty will have to confess.”

Shaking herself, Amelia took a quick pinch of floo powder and sent the imposter through to awaiting aurors. She turned to Albus.

“Now, please, do tell what is so important that it has caused a dead man to appear?”

Another chair was conjured and the headmaster gestured for Amelia to sit. “Introductions are in order. Madam Amelia Bones, I introduce you to Daela Ermaine, daughter of the Druid High Priestess. We also have Harry Potter and Ms. Hermione Granger. To summarize, Mr. Potter and Mr. Digory were captured by the Tournament Cup which had been turned in to a portkey. They returned with Ms. Ermaine, but Mr. Digory was struck by the killing curse. Ms. Ermaine was just about to show us her memory of this evening. Ah yes, the pensieve…” He stood from his chair.

“no thank you sir.”

Dumbledore paused at Daela’s calm refusal. His questioning eyes turned to her, so she elaborated.

“I have a spell that will allow me to transfer the experience to you all in a way that will express all five senses as opposed to the three that the pensieve can manage.” She said.

The minister jumped on this with fervor. “I will not have any spells cast at me young lady. You can either use the pensieve that is provided or take this load of tripe back home.”

For the first time, Daela felt her patience running thin. “Minister, I am not sure where you get your power from, but if it is from the people of this country, then I presume they would not wish for you to be treating an ambassador to the Druids in such a way. Unless this is how you treat with all governing bodies and cultures?”

“Young lady, you are not even of age. Not only do you not have voting rights in the first place, but you are hardly old enough to tell me how to run my office.! I will not…”

This time she interrupted him. “And if I were to inform you that how you treat with me is how others of my people will expect to be treated, what do you say to that Minister?”

“If someone even did send you, I would have to question their intelligence if they sent a bloody child to perform a diplomatic duty! Now remove yourself from my presence you insolent little girl!” Spittle flew from his lips and his bowler hat was being shaken at her, crushed in one of his fists.

Fury was burning inside her, and Daela could feel her aura projecting past her control. She could see the others, save the enraged minister, watching her with fascination. Likely, her lack of control was displaying itself as it usually did, sparks of lightning dancing around her and her eyes glowing with an azure radiance. That, would improve with time and training, not to mention maturity, but it still bothered her to lose even that level of control.

She fought it down, sinking in to her meditations and focusing on a single thought. Share.

With a flick of her wrist, five silver memory strands darted from her temple and entered the minds of the others in the room. She noted that Albus and Amelia had flinched in time as if to block an attack but had not moved quickly enough. Now they stood rigid, held in the last position they had taken. Inside, they would be reliving Daela’s memory from the moment she entered the graveyard until she reappeared on the Hogwarts grounds.

After giving herself a moment to calm down, Daela rose and moved to stand before the window overlooking the grounds, her steps silent upon the carpet. She clasped her hands behind her back and let herself relax, feeling the strains of the night for the first time.

While Daela was strong, she was still only sixteen. Amongst her people, that meant adulthood, but it also meant that her ability to channel the world’s energies was not yet fully established. There was at least another six months before that would happen. Until then, she would tire more easily from magic use, and would be unable to recharge her energy levels by use of the environment. As such, she had nearly exhausted what power she had by holding of Tom’s assault, punching through the Hogwarts wards, and sharing her memory with five people, all within the span of an hour. Not to mention the despicable man who seemed to be in charge of the magical world, that was just draining. Reining in her temper had been hard enough and she wasn’t sure if she would be able to do it again. As soon as they came awake again she would have to seize control of the conversation to lessen his seemingly childish tendencies.

There was one problem however, one Daela and her mother had not foreseen. Harry Potter was a hoarcrux. From what she could tell, nothing had been done to render it inert nor attempt to remove it; which meant that Albus was either less skilled than they had thought, or that he, dare she think it, had chosen to leave it be. Daela shuddered, it had better not be the latter. With her mother’s help, they could easily remove it, but it would have to be done before the soul magnet was needed, or before its connection allowed Tom to affect Harry directly.

She was willing to bet that Albus had not told Harry about it, which would most likely leave it up to her.

Lovely.

How was she supposed to start that conversation? Hey Harry, I know you just met me, but I’ve got to tell you something. Tom put a soul magnet in your brain which means that if he is aware of it he can take over your body the next time he dies. Mind if I pull it out of your skull for you?

Yup, that was bound to be a wonderful conversation.

If they weren’t best friends after that, then something must be wrong with the universe.

Damn.

Behind her, Daela heard the others beginning to stir. After the memories were done being relived, the spell woke them up slowly so they did not hurt themselves. Before they could begin to speak, she did, still facing the window and talking calmly as she had centered herself again and was properly prepared for this.

“I am here, with you now, as a representative of my people because we see no other way to prevent a cataclysm. We can not be certain of the future ourselves, yet we can do what we must. Our magic is what your world once branded as dark, and likely still does. That is why only one of us came to address you this evening.”

Hands still clasped behing her, Daela turned about to face the others. Albus sat serenely, hands clasped on his desk. Amelia was directing a quill to take notes on a scroll but still listening attentively. Harry and the girl with curly brown hair, Granger she thought her name was, were staring at hir with wide eyes. Needless to say, she kept her eyes from the minister for the present.

“I am no warrior. However, I am here to fight for the sanctity of this Earth. I have power, and am willing to teach those I may if it will help them succeed against the monster you have allowed to rampage across Albainn. However,” Here, Daela made her way back to her chair, “I can not, and will not, force you to do anything. I will however, do what I must if you will not. Are we at least able to agree that Tom has returned?”

Albus cleared his throat. “I most certainly agree with you and thank you for your words. Would you mind explaining why you chose to use that spell rather than a pensieve?”

“Of course. As I said before, it provides a person with the full sensory experience with having the added benefit of being nigh impossible to fabricate. Amongst those who understand such magic it is as good as the truth and nothing but.”

“Thank you Ms. Ermaine, that is very…”

“No it is not Albus.” Cornelius stood and stalked over to the fireplace. With a pinch of powder in his fist, he turned about. “I will not have this Dumbledore, neither from you, or these children. I have more important matters to deal with and I advise you to give it up now before my office has to step in. Good day.”

Fudge thrust his other hand in to a pocket and withdrew a small sack which he tossed in Harry’s general direction. “There, boy, your winnings. It has a shrinking charm on it so don’t drop it on anyone.” In another bout of emerald sparks, he was gone.

**TDC**

Lord Voldemort strode regally through the halls of Malfoy Manor. After all, he owned it now didn’t he? As elegant as it was, he knew he would need a more, fitting place from which to rule his country. Perhaps he should build one. That could wait however. Now, he had a few matters to attend to.

“Lucius.”

“Yes m’lord?” came the desperate response.

“I require a team of ward breakers, preferably curse breakers, yet I will allow for some freedom in your choice. Also,” Here he paused and turned to the unmasked man. “I need spies to discover the home of the Druids. They have remained hidden, but if they wish to interfere with my plans, then I intend to show them the error of their ways. I am not to be trifled with. Seek them out for me so I may rip the magic from their blood.”

Lucius nodded fervently. “Of course m’lord, I will see to them personally.”

Continuing his stroll through the home, Voldemort added casually, “Oh, and Lucius? If you fail in this, you will find your home is, how should I put it, no longer needed. Your failure in keeping my forces well trained was nearly enough to undo you, yet I feel that perhaps a second chance would suit you. You shall be repairing that damage as well now won’t you?”

“Of course master, you have my…”

“Don’t grovel, its pathetic.”

He missed the confused expression that flitted across his servant’s face.

**TDC**

“Well then, now that that’s done with, how about some tea?” The headmaster flicked his wand, providing each of them a service of tea and biscuits.

Daela eyed the offering warily. Conjured items provided no benefit when consumed, so her people rarely bothered with them. Extending a tendril of power in to the tea she was surprised to discover that it was not conjured. Curious.

“Now, what do you think of the matter Amelia?” Albus prompted.

Seemingly fortifying herself with the tea, Amelia took a long swallow before responding.

“I am no more pleased with the events of tonight than the minister is. I however, can not deny their happening. I commend you Mr. Potter, and you Ms. Ermaine, for your stance against he-who-must-not-be-named. Though I must ask why you call him Tom?”

“Its his real name.” Harry had spoken, quietly, but firmly. “Voldemort is an anagram for his name. Tom Marvolo Riddle. He’s a half blood, as if he would ever admit it.

“Interesting. Well it is good to have a name to put to it. Out of curiosity, do you know why no one utters his name?”

“I thought everyone was just afraid.”

Amelia looked at Albus with slightly narrowed eyes. “Albus, you mean you haven’t told him why no one speaks the name? Harry, in the last war, He…Tom made his name taboo. That means that if someone said it, he could track them and send death eaters to attack them; even through heavy wards. So yes, people are terrified, and rightly so. Now that he has returned, it is very likely he will do it again. Now though we have another name for him which he most likely will not taboo as he would have to share it with his followers, and its not as if he is the only Tom running about.”

“Was it ever used to draw him out in to a trap?”

Based on how the two elders were looking at her, Daela felt it was safe to presume that had not been attempted.

“Perhaps even I allowed my fear to get the better of me.” Admitted Albus. “Had any of us considered it, that may have been a rather useful opportunity. The only flaw I could see in it is that it was never certain if Tom would appear at the site or not.

“Agreed.” Entered Amelia. “Now, I can promise that I will do all I can to contest, Tom’s, efforts, but I saw something rather concerning. His use of wandless magic, namely using fire, was at a level I have never witnessed let alone heard of. What about you Albus?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “I have not either, but I presume this is what you came to share with us Ms. Ermaine?”

**TDC**

Harry, while exhausted and feeling as though he had been through a traumatic experience, was rather enjoying himself. To be more accurate, he was enjoying how other people were doing the talking for once. Everything important that had happened for years up to this point in time, had required him to be at least a major contributor to the conversation. This, Daela, seemed to be handling it rather well all on her own from what he could tell. Which was impressive since she looked to be about his and Hermione’s age.

When she had first appeared in the graveyard to save him, Harry had been slightly mad from the torture Voldemort had inflicted on him, and had first thought she was his mother’s spirit returned to fight for him. When he got closer he realized they looked nothing alike, so it had to be someone else. Someone else who was strong enough to contest and enfuriate Voldemort. On top of that, she was well, beautiful. Daela held herself with poise and such calm control that it belied her youth.

And that aura of her’s? Well that was impressive. He had never sensed someone’s aura like that.

“That is correct.” Continued Daela. “There are in essence two branches of magic.” At this, Harry saw Hermione twitch and begin to raise her hand.

“However, before you correct me, I mean this in a different sense. There is magic performed through an external focus or foci such as a wand. There is alsom magic unbound by any vessel save the body. This you would refer to as wandless magic. All magical children experience this before they are bound to a wand. This is also the magic used by my people, for the most part. Each magical individual has the opportunity to bind themselves to one of those two in their lifetime, with only one opportunity to alter their choice.”

Beside him, Hermione was starting to take notes feverishly. Where had she gotten the quill and paper from? Harry smiled at her determination not to miss a single speck of knowledge.

“To avoid providing an overly long lesson I will stick to the most important points relevant to Tom.” Hermione looked horrorstruck at the thought of an abbreviated lesson. “When a child accepts a wand, they are instantly bound to it, cutting off the vast majority of their potential for unbound magic, wandless. Tom, like any of you, is able to learn a certain amount of wandless magic, primarily involving elemental control. If for example, I instructed you Harry, in the arts of my people, and you learned all you could, you would have the opportunity to forsake your wand if you so desired. Doing so would limit you to such elemental expressions, but grant you the entire power range you are capable of.

“What this means is each of you, having already bound yourselves to a wand, has only one opportunity to change your minds. Tom displays something concerning however. The amount of power he displays with fire is equivalent to the freedom in the element he should have had he forsaken his wand. And yet, he clearly has not done so. Before you ask, it should be impossible for both to exist in a single individual.”

When Daela paused, Hermione’s hand shot up. The Druid smiled indulgingly at her and flicked her hand gently in a signal for he to ask her question.

“Well, I believe we all noticed that he used only elemental fire tonight. He did transfigure stone in to hounds, but that part was typical transfiguration with a wand. Is there any chance that the fire he used was channeled through his wand but released through his hand?”

Daela seemed to think for a moment, her head cocked to the side as she considered. Finally she shook her head. “I do not believe so. While he is powerful, casting fire about like he did, channeled through his wand but expressed through his hand? It would mean that he is beyond even our most powerful magic wielders. As this is unprecedented, I can not give a definitive answer with proof, but I will say that if it were possible, we would know of it.”

That seemed to satisfy Hermione. “Could, could I meet with you after? I have loads of questions but now isn’t really the time I think…” She trailed off looking around the room.

“Too true.” Added Dumbledore. “Now, do you have any theories Ms. Ermaine?”

“We do. There is only one way that we could work out in order to manage what he has. Tom has created at least one soul magnet, or soul container as you may call them. Splitting off a portion of his soul for the rest of it to jump to upon his death, would technically create an unhindered soul, bound to wandless magic. If the soul magnet returned to him somehow then that would connect a particular element, likely of his choice, to his entire soul. The only conclusion that makes potential sense in this situation is that he did just that, and one of his magnets was either destroyed or returned to his soul by himself.”

The room was quiet. Harry had no idea what Daela was talking about and Hermione looked horrified. Amelia and Professor Dumbledore were slowly turning their heads to look at one another.

Amelia saw the headmaster’s serene look and her eyes narrowed.

“You knew.” Was all she said.

Could he have? This sounded like some kind of horror story. Voldemort could keep himself from dying? Well, its not like Harry hadn’t already known that. But had Dumbledore known and simply not said anything? Could this be why Voldemort was always after him?

“I suspected yes,” the headmaster said calmly but defensively. “however I had no proof and feared that if I brought such concerns to the ministry I might be ignored for the same reason the minister is choosing to disregard the reality he lives in. I also have no proof Amelia. Even now we have only conjecture.”

Daela’s remarkably blue eyes rolled. “I must disagree with you sir. The mere fact that Tom is returned from the supposed death he was to inhabit is fact enough. Cheating death is singularly impossible otherwise.”

“Even so, this means he would be mortal now, so all that needs doing is overpowering him.” He parried.

“Not necessarily. What if he made more than one, which, considering his power and determination to embody psychosis and evil, he very well may have.”

“And yet, we have no way of determining such things. For now, we can only prepare for what conflict he brings to us.”

Hermione was frustratedly scrawling something on her notes, her eyes half closed in thought. He thought she looked rather adorable like that.

Wait, what?

Two girls in the same room, at the same time.

And he thought they were both pretty?

Oh damn!

It was finally happening. He actually gave a damn about girls now. This was not good. Not good at all. More distractions. Lovely.

Focus!

It turned out that when you were trying not to focus on pretty girls, all you could do was focus on the pretty girls.

Bollocks.

Would it help to look at someone who was not pretty?

Yup, looking at the ancient headmaster helped. A lot.

But now he felt like an ass. Ah well, nothing for it then.

Hermione’s elbow nudged his arm.

“Hmmm?”

Harry looked about and saw that he was the center of attention.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I was just asking you,” began Amelia, “If you would not mind testifying under truth serum if my department comes under fire from the minister. It may be the only way to verify Voldemort’s return. There are some arguments that they could still use, but it would sway enough voters to make the difference.”

“Yeah, that’d be fine.” Then he remembered his experience with Snape earlier in the year. “Actually, I could do it now if you’d like.”

Amelia shook her head. “Veritaserum is highly restricted and requires a lot of paperwork to have brewing permissions allowed, never mind actual administration. But I thank you for your readiness.”

“There’s some in the castle though, at least I think there still is.”

The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement perked up. “Oh? And how do you know this?”

Dumbledore began to say something but Amelia held up a hand.

“Snape threatened me with it earlier in the year when he decided I was stealing potion ingredients from him. He showed me it and everything. Doesn’t it only take a couple of drops or something? He said that was all he’d need to put in my juice.”

Part of him felt a vengeful sense of glee when Amelia’s eyes narrowed and she stood up turning to the headmaster.

“You mean to tell me that your potions master has been brewing truth serum without the express permission of the ministry. Threatening students with it no less?”

“I am sure Severus would never have followed through Amelia. What he showed Harry was likely just a similarly appearing potion.”

“Bring him here, and tell him you have need of his supply. All of it.” When professor Dumbledore hesitated she added, “Or I will have aurors come here to take it from him.”

With a sigh of resignation, Dumbledore summoned his patronus and sent the silvery phoenix after Snape. The office was awkwardly silent while they waited, save for the relentless ticking and whirring of the silver instruments.

**TDC**

Daela sensed as the man approached, his tainted mark tickling at the edge of her senses. Was there really another professor bearing the mark of their foe? Did no one really understand what that blasted mark was capable of?

The door opened and the potions master swept in, robes billowing. In his hand he held two vials filled with a clear substance. His eyes immediately fell upon Harry and a malevolent sneer stole over his features.

“Ah, I see why you needed so much of the…” He spotted Amelia.

He froze, then slowly looked down at what he was holding. His lips opened in a silent curse.

“Ah, thank you Severus! Look at that Amelia, not only does he do his job well, but his enthusiasm has allowed him to brew enough of the potion to supply the ministry for months. Why thank you Severus.”

Daela stared at the headmaster, her brain seemed to have frozen.

What in the name of the blood-soaked earth was wrong with these people?

Worse yet, what had she just gotten herself in to?


End file.
